The end of another run has come again, but before you go out into
a Star Traks: Waystation-less world (at least until the next run),
I must remind you that Star Trek is owned by Viacom and that Star
Traks and Star Traks: Waystation are the property of Alan Decker.
STAR TRAKS:
WAYSTATION
"Pomp and Circumstances"
By Alan Decker
"Station Log. Stardate 57988.3. Commander Walter Morales
recording. Everything is ready for the arrival of Captain Jean-Luc
Picard and the subsequent ceremony. We have the VIP quarters all
set. We have the site prepared. We have the security arrangements
made. And we have the details for the reception following the
ceremony worked out. What we don't have is our captain. I know
Captain Beck said that, while she would not be gone long, she
might not return in time for the ceremony. I am prepared for that.
But I can't say I'm comfortable with this at all. I don't know where
she is. I don't why she went. And I have no clue when she'll be
back. I know she left with her sister, and that it's personal. Fine.
Still, I can't help but worry. And I'm not alone. Lieutenant
Commander Porter, the one person who does have an idea where
the captain went, is looking more upset by the minute. I think it's
only a matter of time until..."
"That's it!" Lieutenant Commander Craig Porter
exclaimed, storming out of the turbolift into Ops.
"That's what?" Lieutenant Commander Sean Russell
asked from his post at the tactical console, looking around in
alarm.
"I'm guessing Craig feels he's waited long enough,"
Commander Morales said as Porter began typing away at the
Science/Operations console.
"She should have been back by now," Porter said. "Way
before now really."
"The captain said she might miss the ceremony," Morales
replied. He wasn't trying to discourage Porter, but rather get a bit
more information out of him.
"There's no reason why she should...unless Kathy botched the
calculations. I don't think she'd do that, though. She'd worked
too hard on this to screw up on something simple like that."
Okay. That was a bit more information, but Morales was still
missing a vital piece.
"If everything went right, they should have returned almost
as soon as they left," Porter continued. "I mean it's time travel.
That's kind of the point."
"Time travel!" Morales exclaimed. Er...he could have
handled that one a bit more smoothly. But suddenly it all made
sense...at least the part about the ship vanishing from the readout
on his docking control console and from the tactical displays. That
was a vital piece all right, but evidently he needed more than one.
"Why did she and Kathy want to travel in time?"
"To save their parents," Porter said.
"Wait," Russell said. "That's against a whole bunch of
regulations, not to mention a lot of Federation laws. If they get
caught..."
"That's why Captain Beck didn't tell the rest of you where
she was going. I already knew because of Kathy."
"That's what she wanted your help with," Russell
realized. "You designed a time ship! That's just cool!"
"I didn't help her," Porter replied. "As soon as I figured
out what she was planning, I told her to leave. She finished the ship
on her own...somehow. Guess I should have focused more on the
how before she and Captain Beck left."
"If they went back in time and ran into a problem, will you
be able to find them?" Morales asked. "We've done the slingshot
maneuver in the Wayward, but if we don't know where to go..."
"I'm trying to figure out what happened," Porter said. "If
there's any way to do it, I'm going to find her."
Tarmak lifted Captain Lisa Beck's head by the hair, looked
into her insensate eyes, then let her head fall back onto her chest as
the Starfleet captain slumped unconscious in the chair into which
she'd been bound since her arrival on the Romulan colony of Zycam
the day before. It had taken them all night, but the "independent
contractors" Tarmak had enlisted to pry the Waystation command
codes from Beck's mind had finally broken through.
He glanced over at Spaanz and Taanz, who were sprawled
on the floor, twitching involuntarily and muttering nonsensically in
the process. It appeared that the strain may have broken them as
well.
It was odd really for a human mind to have that kind of an
effect on a Vulcan during a mind meld, Tarmak thought as he
strolled out of the room and made his way out of the Information
Complex wing of the colony's governmental offices to the guest
suites located across the courtyard. Frankly he'd been surprised
that Spaanz, who had first initiated the mind meld with the
unwilling Starfleet officer, wasn't able to handle the whole thing
himself. Taanz was forced to join the meld, and even then the
process took hours, hours that Tarmak didn't really have
considering the impending ceremony on Waystation. As it was, he
was barely going to have time to say his goodbyes to Dr. Kathy
Beck, get aboard his ship, and make it to Waystation before the
main event began.
Granted, he probably could have skipped the goodbye to
Dr. Beck, but that would have been more than a little rude,
especially considering all the help that she had given him. It was
fairly safe to say that none of this would have been possible without
her. How could he run off without expressing his gratitude to her
one last time?
He found Dr. Beck not in her assigned guest quarters, but
in the V.I.P. gymnasium, where she was busy attempting to operate
a ro'beauxt. The effort was obviously angering her highly. Tarmak
couldn't help but admire her for a moment. Most human women
did not display ire well, a fact that amused him considering humans
had a saying along the lines of "you're gorgeous when you're
angry." Dr. Beck was the exception to this rule, however. Rather
than flailing about with wide-eyed rage like some hideous Klingon,
Dr. Beck's gaze hardened with a determination Tarmak had only
seen on a Romulan. And her form, muscles tight, straining to bring
the ro'beauxt into line...It was almost breathtaking to behold.
And now she was staring at him.
"So here you are," Tarmak said, stepping forward with a
smile as Dr. Beck extricated herself from the Romulan equivalent
of a rowing machine.
"She told you," Kathy Beck replied.
"That she did."
"I could tell by the smile," Kathy said, wiping her brow with a
towel. "Is she okay?"
"She could use some rest, but I believe that she is
unharmed...physically. The contractors I called in did an excellent
job. It's a shame I'm going to have to have them killed." He
watched Kathy start with surprise. "Kidding!" he said with a laugh.
"They did a good job. Why would I kill them? You never know
when you're going to need that kind of help again, and why start
over looking for someone to do the work when you already have an
established business relationship with people you know can do the
job? It'd be a complete waste!"
"Um...yeah. Exactly," Kathy said, forcing a chuckle. "A real
waste."
"I can't stay long. I have to get underway, but I did want to
thank you again for your assistance. Your support has been
invaluable."
"It was a fair arrangement...assuming you hold up your
end."
"The temporal physics research. Of course. You'll have it
in hand shortly. Everything the Romulan Empire knows about time
travel."
"Thank you."
"I know this is a bit off the subject, but, if you don't mind
my asking, does anyone in your family have an abnormally high
esper rating?"
"Excuse me?"
"Telepathic perhaps?" Tarmak asked.
"No. Why?"
"Hmmm...maybe it's a new Starfleet training technique. Or
maybe Spaanz and Taanz weren't as good as they said. I just didn't
know a human could resist a mind meld for so long...much less two
of them."
"Lisa can be really stubborn," Kathy said.
"Of that I have no doubt. Well, as I said, I need to run. It's
been a pleasure, Doctor Beck." He turned and headed toward the
exit.
"Tarmak," Kathy called after him.
"Yes?" Tarmak replied, looking back around.
"What...what happens to Lisa now?"
"Oh, did you want to take her with you?"
"I can?"
"No. I'm just surprised that you would want to. After all,
you were willing to hand her over to us, which doesn't exactly say
much for your bonds of sisterhood."
"I don't want her back. I don't think she'd want to go with
me anyway. I just wanted to know what's going to happen to her.
You aren't going to..."
"Kill her?" Tarmak asked casually.
"Yes."
"I hadn't planned on it. Once I finish my business on
Waystation, I'll return her there. I don't have any need to keep her
around."
"Okay. That's fine. I just..."
"I understand," Tarmak said with a nod. "We'll have you on
your way shortly. And your sister will be delivered home
unharmed. You have my word." With that, he left the gym and
moved off down the corridor on his way to the main entrance
leading out to the courtyard, pulling out a small communicator as
he went. "Tarmak to Commander Brella."
"Yes, Governor," the voice of the head of the colony's small
military contingent replied over the comm.
"Are we ready?"
"The Weetabix is standing by."
"I'll be there in a moment. Have Doctor Beck's ship
prepped and ask Altel deliver the research to her. I don't want her
to leave until after we're gone, though. And then...send out the
Aertran to destroy her."
"Of course, Governor. Brella out."
"Yes, of course, Captain. We'll be waiting for you.
Waystation out." Commander Morales closed the comm channel and
let out a deep breath. "Captain Picard's runabout will be here in
about an hour," he said.
"Uh huh," Porter replied without looking up from his
console. Morales was fairly certain that Porter hadn't heard a word
of it, though.
"And he's bringing the Risan All-Nude Women's Wrestling
team."
"Uh huh," Porter said. Nope. He wasn't paying attention.
"He is!" Russell exclaimed, practically leaping over his
console. "Comm him back! Can we get a visual?"
Russell, however, was another matter.
"You've got to be kidding me," Porter muttered. "You..."
"What?" Russell said. "It's a legitimate request."
"I need a ship," Porter said suddenly.
"Now that's more like it. We'll go meet them and escort
them here. I can escort five...maybe six of them," Russell said.
"What's going on, Craig?" Morales asked, ignoring
Russell. "Did you find the captain?"
"I've got a trail."
"A trail?"
"Look at this," Porter said, putting the sensor readings of
the time ship's disappearance up on the Waystation viewscreen.
"There's the energy build-up, a massive surge of chronitons, and the
ship is gone."
"Okay..." Morales said, not sure if that was supposed to lead
him to some conclusion.
"But look at this," Porter continued, much to Morales's
relief. He expanded the view to show a wider region beyond the
station. A point on the display began flashing. And then another.
And another. Forming a line of dots leading away from
Waystation. "See there? And there? Chronitons!"
"I don't get it," Russell said. "If they went back in time,
why is there a trail of chronitons?"
"I don't think they went anywhere...well, except that way,"
Porter said, pointing to the trail. "The chroniton surge should
have tipped me off. Why was it so uncontrolled? Somehow Kathy's
ship was storing the chronitons until she wanted to release them to
hide what was really happening."
"Which was?" Morales asked.
"They cloaked," Russell said.
"Right," Porter said. "Normally we wouldn't see anything,
but the ship must not have expelled all of the chronitons in the
surge. They were still trickling out afterwards, and they weren't
masked by the cloaking device."
"Zycam," Morales said.
"Huh?" Russell asked.
"That's what's in the direction they're heading. Zycam. The
Romulan colony."
"Convenient destination for a ship with a cloaking device,"
Porter said.
"We've got to go after them," Russell said.
"Jean-Luc Picard is going to be here in an hour," Morales
said. "I can't..."
"I can," Porter said. "There's nothing about this ceremony
that requires my presence. I'll take the Wayward and..."
"I'm coming with you," Russell said.
"You can take the Wayward," Morales said to Porter. "But
you're not going," he added to Russell. "I'm sorry, but I need
you here. You're responsible for security at this event."
"Waits can handle it."
"Maybe, but maybe not. You need to be here. I'd love to
let you go, but President Dillon would have both of our heads if
the man in charge of all of the security arrangements up and left."
"Craig can't go along. He needs someone to handle the
weapons."
"He won't be alone," Morales said.
"No offense, Commander, but I don't want a bunch of junior
officers on something like this," Porter said.
"I was thinking of Steph."
"Now her, I'll take," Porter said grinning. "And I mean
that in a completely non-lascivious kind of way."
"I changed my mind."
"Too late. Give me your girlfriend."
"Um..."
"I'm serious," Porter said, rushing toward the turbolift.
"Tell her to meet me at the Wayward. I'll be the one in the tuxedo
holding the roses." The turbolift doors closed, and Porter was
gone.
"It's NOT a DATE!" Morales shouted after him.
"I don't think he can hear you," Russell said.
"And I think I liked it better when we all weren't speaking
to each other," Morales muttered.
Yeoman Tina Jones tugged at her dress uniform yet again
as she looked nervously from Commander Morales to the space
beyond Docking Bay Two.
"I can't do this," she said finally, turning to head toward the
door.
Morales grabbed her collar and spun her back around.
"You're fine," he said firmly.
"I'm not fine! I'm a wreck! I can't do this. I'm going to
screw it up. I'm going to embarrass the station. It's going to be
awful!"
"Tina, come on! You greet visitors all the time. This isn't
any different."
"This is Jean-Luc Picard!"
"So? Big deal. You talk to the President of the Federation
on a regular basis. He's way more important than Picard."
"But I knew Bradley before he became President. Picard is a
legend. I'm not ready to meet a legend. I can't do it."
"You have to."
"No, I don't."
"Yes, you do. He's here."
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Jones screamed as the
runabout carrying Picard slid through the docking bay force field
and touched down on the deck.
"Don't make me drag you up there," Morales said, stepping
toward the runabout. Jones nodded numbly and followed. She
froze briefly as the runabout hatch opened, but a stern glance from
Morales had her moving again.
Before she knew it, he was standing in the door frame.
Jean-Luc Picard. Captain of the Enterprise. Hero of the
Federation. Living legend.
Wow. He was a lot shorter in person.
"Captain Picard," Morales said, extending his hand to their
guest. "Welcome to Waystation. I am Commander Walter Morales,
First Officer. This is our Liaison Officer, Yeoman Tina Jones."
"Delighted," Picard said without a hint of delight in his
voice as he shook Morales's hand and then Jones's. Jones resisted
the urge to faint as Picard took her hand. His grip was a lot less
firm than she was expecting. Maybe he was just taking it easy on
her.
"Captain Beck sends her regrets, but she was called away
from the station on important business. We have every hope that
she will return in time for the ceremony. I know she is anxious to
meet you."
"Of course," Picard said, looking confused. "I thought
President Dillon..."
"He also sends his regrets. He was needed in a meeting
some kind," Morales said. "I must get back to Ops to monitor a
mission, but Yeoman Jones here will see to your needs. Enjoy your
stay." And with that, Morales rushed out, leaving Jones alone with
Picard.
"So...first time here?" Jones asked. What? What did she
just say? Of course it was his first time here! She'd been on the
station since it was built! She'd know if he'd ever been here.
"Yes," Picard said.
"Why don't we go to your quarters," Jones said.
"You want to go to my quarters with me?"
"Yes. I can take care of any of your needs once we get
there."
"My needs. Ah. Yeoman, are you propositioning me?"
"NO!!!" Jones cried. "Why would you think..." She trailed
off, running through the conversation. Hmm...she offered to go to
his quarters with him and take care of all of his needs. "Oh. Yeah.
That's really not what I meant."
"I should hope not," Picard said. "I'm sure you're a
wonderful person and a fine officer, but I have no interest in..."
"It's okay," Jones said quickly. "I don't either. Not that it
wouldn't be an honor. And I'm sure you're very good, being so
experienced and all. I mean...I'm just going to shut up and take
you to your quarters now."
"Thank you," Picard said.
Jones led him out of the docking bay and across the
corridor into the turbolift, which she ordered to the VIP section.
After several seconds, she just couldn't stand the silence any more.
"Is it just you?" Jones asked.
"Pardon me?"
"Coming to the ceremony. I would think your crewmates
would want to be here."
"They all had...other plans," Picard said darkly.
"Really? That's surprising. The press makes it sound like
all of you are really close. If it were my friend, I'd want to watch
him getting an award like this."
"Yeoman..."
"I mean, this is a lifetime achievement award. And you're
getting it from the President of the Federation himself. How often
in a person's life does that kind of thing happen? Well, once I
guess, since it's a lifetime achievement award."
"Yeoman, please..."
"Unless you're a Trill...or a Bracktian. I guess in that case
you could get a bunch of them. Well, the symbiont could. And
Yynsians technically could. My point is that this is a pretty big
deal, and your friends aren't here."
"None of them wanted to come here!" Picard shouted.
"And if the President had granted my request to accept this
particular honor live via subspace, I wouldn't be here either! All
right? Do you understand now?"
"Are all legends this rude?" Jones asked. She let out a huff
and turned away from Picard, deciding that riding in silence
wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.
She got what she came for. It wasn't exactly in the form she
wanted, but at least the Romulans had held up their end of the deal,
Dr. Kathy Beck thought as she sped away from Zycam in her
non-time traveling timeship. With any luck, though, it wouldn't be
non-time traveling for long. All she had to do now was get back to
her lab, read through page after page of Romulan temporal physics
research, and get their ideas implemented before Lisa came after
her.
If Lisa came after her.
Her sister was a Starfleet captain after all, and now she was
in Romulan hands. Tarmak may have been done with her, but the
Romulan High Command would probably be very interested in
speaking with Lisa.
She may have just doomed her own sister to a life of torture
and imprisonment and, in doing so, committed treason against the
Federation.
Kathy pushed the thought out of her mind and went back to
her mantra. When the timeship worked, none of this would matter.
Once she went back in time and rescued their parents, Kathy and
Lisa's lives would completely change. None of the current
circumstances would even come to pass.
And whether she realized it or not, Lisa was doing her part
to make it happen. Her suffering would be temporary. Anything
the Romulans learned would be temporary.
Kathy would fix it all.
The timeship's limited sensors alerted her to a vessel closing
rapidly to aft. She was no expert, but they sure as hell looked like
they were chasing after her. As the ship got closer, the sensors
were finally able to identify it as a Romulan scout ship. Maybe
she'd forgotten something on Zycam, and they were coming to
deliver it.
Who was she kidding? She hadn't forgotten anything.
She'd been used, just as she'd feared would happen from the first
time Tarmak contacted her. Now they were coming dispose of the
evidence. And there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.
The timeship was defenseless. One shot, and she'd be history. A
disruptor blast slammed into the rear of the ship, taking out the
engines instantly. Why didn't they go for the kill?
Because it would be obvious to anyone who discovered the
debris that the ship was destroyed by disruptor fire. A light shot,
however, might not even be noticed if the ship looked like it blew
up from a massive engine malfunction.
They were going to board the timeship. They were going to
board it, incapacitate her somehow, and blow the whole thing up.
No one would ever know what really happened.
If they thought it was going to be that easy, these Romulans
were going to be in for a surprise. Kathy scrambled out of her seat
and ran back to the cabinet where she'd stashed Lisa's phaser after
she'd drugged her sister on their way to Zycam. Let the Romulans
beam in. She'd take them out.
Grabbing the phaser, she turned toward the front of the ship
just in time to see a fast-moving streak zoom past the viewport,
sailing overhead. Kathy raced to back to her seat and pulled up the
rear view as the newcomer positioned itself between the timeship
and the Romulans. She was unfamiliar with the ship design that had
charged to her rescue, but the markings on it made one thing
obvious: it was Starfleet. The Romulan scout ship, possibly
realizing that it was out-gunned, about to start an incident with the
Federation, or maybe both, turned and fled.
Before Kathy could feel any kind of relief, if any relief was
going to be coming once the truth was out, two figures materialized
in the timeship's cockpit. One was Craig Porter, the other a
female marine.
"Where is she?" Porter demanded.
"She's okay," Kathy said, approaching her rescuers. "They
promised me."
"WHO promised you?" the marine said, just as
demandingly.
Kathy hesitated a moment, unable to hide the guilt she felt.
"The Romulans," Porter said.
"YOU GAVE LISA TO THE ROMULANS!" the marine bellowed. Kathy
finally really looked at the woman. That face. She
knew that face. It was...
"Steph?" Kathy asked surprised.
She was even more surprised a moment later when
Stephanie Hodges' fist slammed into her face.
"That explains the direct route to Zycam," Porter said,
trying not to show too much of the pleasure he was feeling at
seeing Hodges flatten Kathy. "What'd they offer you?"
"Information," Kathy said, picking herself up off of the deck.
"What you wouldn't give me."
Porter spotted the Romulan padd on the co-pilot's seat and
snatched it up, quickly scrolling through its contents. "Good luck
with this," he said after a few moments.
"What do you mean?"
"It's garbage. Random gibberish and idle speculation. What
the hell do the Romulans know about time travel?"
"I don't know. That's what I wanted to find out."
"Do the Romulans rule the quadrant?"
"Huh?"
"I'm asking you, do the Romulans rule the quadrant?"
Porter repeated.
"No."
"So don't you think that, if they knew anything about time
travel, they would, being Romulans and all, have used it to their
advantage by now and taken over?"
"Maybe."
"You betrayed your own sister for a bunch of useless crap!"
Hodges said, advancing on Kathy.
"You don't know that!" Kathy replied, her voice growing
frantic. "The answer could be in there. The Romulans might not
even know they have it, but they could!"
"They tricked you. Big surprise there," Porter said. "Now
we're going to try to fix it."
"You're going to rescue her?" Kathy said. "Are you insane?
She's surrounded by Romulans with who knows how many ships.
And it's just the two of you in that one little ship. Even if you made
it into orbit and beamed down, you'd never get near her."
"Do you know where she was being held?" Hodges asked.
"Yes."
"Then we'll be fine."
"She brought friends," Porter said. It had been a pleasant
surprise when Hodges showed up in the docking bay with a number of
Federation Marines. Evidently her power over Colonel Lazlo (resulting
from him shooting her) allowed her to commandeer some help "And as
for getting into orbit," Porter continued, "you'll be helping us out
with that, too." He turned to Hodges. "Take her back to the Wayward.
I'll get the cloaking device."
"You know about that?" Kathy asked surprised.
"How do you think we found you?" Porter replied. "It was
a pretty light show, though. Gotta hand you that. And you'll have
to show me sometime how you managed to store those
chronometric particles."
"Less engineering. More rescuing," Hodges said.
"I'm on it," Porter said, heading toward the rear of the time
ship. "See you back on the Wayward."
"We'll be waiting," Hodges said. "Just don't take too long.
I might start punching her again."
"I'm not sure if that's an incentive or not."
"Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, and beings of
indeterminate, multiple, or other genders. Welcome to this
evening's AWN exclusive presentation of The UFP
Honors...Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Live from Waystation! I'm
Joan Redding, and tonight we'll join the elite of the Alpha Quadrant
as they gather to honor one of Starfleet's brightest stars. I'm here
just outside the beautiful Waystation arboretum bringing you all the
excitement as the luminaries arrive."
Commander Morales, who was watching Redding's broadcast
from a monitoring area that had been hastily set up in the
horticultural supply room (i.e. the shed) just off of the arboretum,
leaned over to Yeoman Jones. "We have luminaries?"
"She's overselling it a bit," Jones replied. "But it's
showbiz."
"Just who did accept invitations?"
"People."
"What people?"
"People who know Captain Picard."
"Are they going to be people he wants to see?"
"Umm...maybe?" Jones replied weakly.
There was a certainly delicious irony to the situation, if one
was willing to look past the seriousness for a moment. Here they
were, in a Starfleet ship, cloaked, and in orbit around a Romulan
world. It was enough to make Porter think for a moment that they
were in some kind of strange mirror universe...not that he would
have wished for that. Still, there was something fun about the
whole "I can see you, but you can't see me" part of this.
Stephanie Hodges, however, didn't seem to be in the mood
to appreciate delicious ironies or anything else for that matter.
"You're certain it was that building," Hodges snapped,
pointing at the building shown on the scans displayed on the
monitor in front of her.
"Yes," Kathy Beck replied firmly. "They had Lisa in there."
Hodges looked to Porter. "I'm not reading human life-
signs," Porter replied. "But then I'm not reading them anywhere
on the planet."
"Maybe they killed her," Kathy said.
"Do you want me to punch you again?" Hodges shouted.
"Other than the death thing, Kathy either knows what she's
talking about, or she's lucky enough to have identified the only
building that's sending anomalous scan readings," Porter said.
"What do you mean 'anomalous'?" Hodges asked.
"He means like a jamming field," Kathy said.
"It's a possibility," Porter said. "But it's only hiding the
basement level...and whatever might be below that...if anything. If
it's a jammer..."
"I get it," Hodges said. "What do we do?"
"I can't order the Federation Marines to do anything,"
Porter replied. "However, the jamming field is most likely
covering the area where they're holding the captain. If you can get
inside it, you should be able to scan for her. But if you go down
there, you're talking about making an incursion into Romulan
territory that could be seen as an act of war."
"If she's down there, they made the first strike."
"Ah yes. 'They started it.' The lynch-pin of diplomatic
negotiations for centuries."
"Craig," Hodges warned.
"I just had to state the situation for the record," Porter
said.
"And?"
"And I think she's alive down there."
Hodges nodded. "Hodges to O'Neal. We're going in."
"Hello, ma'am. That is an amazing dress you're wearing."
"Why thank you," the stunning brunette said, doing a little
spin in front of Redding to show off the gown and the figure it was
flattering.
"And you are?"
"No names. But Jean-Luc would know me as Ardra."
"Are you close to the captain?"
"Close? Are you kidding? If things had gone just a little
differently, he'd be my love slave right now," Ardra replied, giving
the holocam a sultry smile designed to inflame the hearts and a few
other parts of the folks watching at home.
Hodges expected to hear alarm klaxons blaring as soon as
she, Lieutenant Colonel Dan O'Neal, and the rest of the small
squad of Federation Marines they'd brought materialized inside the
governmental complex on Zycam, but there was only silence.
Either they were dealing with a less-well-protected building
than they thought, or the alarm was sounding at a frequency only
Romulans could hear. She was hoping for the former.
She pointed at Corporal Sheppard, who pulled out a
scanner. Sheppard watched the device for a few moments, then
shook her head. They were still seeing the effects of the jamming
field.
Hodges nodded to O'Neal, who gestured for the squad to
move forward. They rounded a corner and found a Romulan
custodian cleaning the glass door of the entrance to a room that, if
Kathy was right, should be the waiting room adjoining the corridor
she'd last seen Captain Beck dragged down.
The custodian seemed to be occupied with his work and
completely unaware of anything resembling an alarm. That was a
good sign.
An even better sign was that O'Neal was able to slip up
behind the man, zap him with a neutralizer, and lower his
unconscious body to the floor without a single sound.
Hodges couldn't help but smile. This might almost be fun.
"And who is this handsome gentleman?"
"Jason Vigo," the nervous man in front of Redding said,
leaning unnecessarily into the camera to be heard.
"Vigo. Vigo. Ah. Of the Nerali Vigos. I'm sure Captain
Picard will be honored to have a representative from one of Alpha
Centauri's oldest and most prestigious families here on his special
night."
"Actually, I'm from Camor Five."
"From the ruling family of Camor Five?" Redding asked
hopefully.
"Sorry. I'm just here to see Jean-Luc."
"So you are friends then?"
"You could say that. I was told he was my dad."
"Your dad? As in you're his illegitimate love child?"
"That's what the Ferengi told me. It's not true, though."
"Of course it isn't."
"No really. This Daimon altered my DNA to be like
Jean-Luc's, so that he could get revenge for something that
happened a long time ago."
"And you bought that story?"
"It's the truth!"
"Of course it is."
While Sedna's life wasn't the most exciting, there were
worse duties one could have in the service of the Empire. And
frankly, at her age, running the reception desk of the Interrogation
and Extraction Center on Zycam was all the excitement Sedna
could handle. How many people were there to interrogate on a
colony in the middle of nowhere?
Not many. Which was fine with her.
It gave her more time to work on the ear covers for her new
great-great granddaughter.
No excitement required.
Too bad the universe often has other plans.
On the other side of the entry doors to the waiting room,
Lieutenant Colonel O'Neal counted off silently on his fingers.
Three...two...one...
And with a quick point, he and the other marines burst into
the waiting room, ready to take down any threat.
Sedna looked up from her knitting. "Do you have an
appoint--"
Before the elderly Romulan woman could even finish the
sentence, a marine was on top of her, jamming something against
her neck. She collapsed to the desk, the impact cushioned by the
ball of pink yarn in front of her.
"Room secure," O'Neal said, nodding with satisfaction.
"Kintasa, hold this position." O'Neal pointed at the door on the
opposite side of the waiting room, and in a flash the other marines
were running through it, deeper into the Romulan complex.
Hodges did her fair share of grumbling about the amount of
training the marines went through, but she had to admit that in
times like this, it was all worth it.
Finally! Someone who looks official, Joan Redding thought
as the alien male in regal robes strode toward her.
"Good evening, sir," she said, stepping into his path. "Joan
Redding. AWN News. Who am I addressing?"
"Voval," the man said with a deep bow. "Ambassador from
Iyaar."
"This is a pleasure, Mister Ambassador," Redding said,
brightening. "What brings you to the ceremony night?"
"Why Jean-Luc Picard, of course," Voval replied with a
smile.
"You have met the captain, then."
"Yes, yes I have. He has done a great deal to help relations
between my people and the Federation. And I, personally, have
learned a great deal from him."
"I'm sure he appreciates your gratitude."
"I hope so. I cannot thank him enough for teaching me the
ways of love."
"Love?" Redding asked hesitantly.
"Yes indeed. I will always remember our time together."
"Uh huh."
Beck had been here. Hodges was sure of it. She rushed
over to the empty chair in the middle of the interrogation room and
closely checked the seat back, coming up moments later with a long
red hair. She'd joked for years that Lisa was going to go bald from
shedding one of these days. That hair of hers just seemed to end up
everywhere. Now she was grateful for it.
"What is it, Lieutenant?" O'Neal asked, walking over.
"Lisa...Captain Beck," Hodges said, showing him the hair.
O'Neal nodded, then pointed toward Sheppard, who pulled out
her scanner. Hodges, meanwhile, could barely contain her urge to
charge back to the waiting room and rough up the old lady at the
desk until she told her just where the hell Lisa was. Of course, her
unconsciousness would be a bit of an obstacle to her ability to
provide information at the moment.
After what seemed like an eternity, Sheppard nodded.
"I've got her," she said and started off back into the long corridor
they'd come down from the waiting room with the marines taking
up positions around her. After several turns, they descended a set
of stairs into a block of holding cells. The Romulan guarding the
cells obviously wasn't expecting visitors, since he was fast asleep
when the marines came to call. He managed a groggy "Whahuh?"
before Hodges took him out with a rifle butt to the head. O'Neal
looked at her disapprovingly, then had Copeland inject him with a
hypospray to finish the job.
Sheppard led the group to a cell about half way down the
corridor. Hodges practically shoved the corporal aside and
activated the door. The heavy metal slab slid aside revealing a
completely dark interior.
"Lisa?" Hodges asked, stepping forward.
After receiving no response, she looked back at Sheppard
questioningly.
"I'm reading human lifesigns inside," Sheppard said.
Hodges cautiously moved farther in...
...then tumbled to the floor as she tripped over something.
She quickly realized that the something was a person.
"Lisa!" she exclaimed.
There was still no response.
"No no. Don't do this to me," Hodges said, grabbing onto
the arms of the cell's occupant and dragging her out into the light
of the corridor.
It was Lisa Beck, all right. And she was breathing.
That was a relief...at least until Hodges got a good look at
Beck's eyes, fixed open and staring ahead blankly.
"Good evening...sir," Joan Redding said, trying not to let
her nervousness show as the Cardassian in front of her glared back,
his eyes seeming to penetrate the deepest corners of her mind.
"What an honor to have guests from Cardassia here tonight."
The Cardassian said nothing.
"May I ask your name?" Redding said, the last word coming
out almost as a squeak.
"Madred. Gul Madred."
"Thank you, Gul," Redding said, relieved that her latest
interview subject had actually decided to speak to her and not kill
her. Or leave dead air. Dead air was the worst. "Are you
representing Cardassia on an official basis tonight?"
"No. My reasons to be here are...personal."
"Ah. So you have faced Captain Picard before."
"In a sense. He was taken from me before I was finished."
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
"But I'll tell you something," Madred said, leaning in
conspiratorially.
"Yes?"
"I've seen him naked."
Redding pulled away and tried to ignore the discomforting
smile on the Cardassian's face. "Well... How...nice for you."
Out they ran. With Captain Beck supported between
Hodges and O'Neal, the Federation Marines raced out of the cell
block, back up the stairs, through the corridors, until they
approached the waiting room.
"Kintasa to O'Neal," the Lieutenant Colonel's
communicator barked suddenly.
"Go," O'Neal said.
"I can hear something in the corridor. I think they're
coming for us."
"We're almost there," O'Neal said.
"Hodges to Porter," Hodges said, going for her own
communicator.
"Porter here. Do you have her?" the Starfleet officer
replied from the Wayward high above them.
"Yes, but we need to get out of here. Can you see us? Are
we out of the effects of the jamming field?"
"Almost. You're fading in and out. It looks like one of you
is standing in an open area ahead of your current position. That
signal is clear. Can you get there?"
"That's the plan, but we may have a welcoming committee
when we arrive."
"Ewww. I see them," Porter said. "The good news is that
you should get there a second or two earlier. That's all I'll need."
"Now's no time to be over-selling your abilities," Hodges
said as she and O'Neal burst into the waiting room with Beck. She
expected a smart remark in reply. What she got instead was the
tingling grip of a transporter.
An instant later, she was standing in the mess hall/sickbay of
the Wayward with the other marines. Porter jogged in a few
moments after that.
"I had to route everyone here," he said. "The transporter
isn't exactly built for group beaming, and I had a feeling no one
wanted to wait in line to get here."
"No," Hodges said firmly.
O'Neal nodded, clearly pleased. "Excellent extraction,
everyone. Nicely done. Not a single casualty."
"I wouldn't say that," Hodges said, kicking the top of a mess
hall table, which flipped over revealing the biobed underneath."
"I knew we should have brought Doctor Diantha," Porter
said, rushing over to help Hodges get Beck onto the table. He
looked into his captain's blank eyes and shuddered. "What the hell
did they do to her?"
"We don't know," Hodges said. "She was like this when we
found her."
"Completely catatonic," O'Neal said as Porter started the
bioscans. He was no doctor, but hopefully he could piece together
enough to get an idea what was wrong with Beck, even if he
couldn't help her.
"Synaptic activity is reduced, and there are signs of neural
stress."
"Like she was thinking really hard?" O'Neal asked. "About
what? Could that even do this?"
"I don't think it's something you'll ever have to be concerned
about," Porter said. "No, these are the signs of telepathic contact,
just to an extreme extent. I think she was fighting it. And look at
these small bruises on her face. Look at the placement."
Hodges put her hand against the side of Beck's face, her
fingertips almost exactly matching up with the bruises. Someone
with a bigger hand would fit perfectly.
"A mind meld," Hodges said.
"A two-hander by the looks of it," Porter said.
"They ripped her mind apart."
"We'll get her back."
"You don't know that, Craig. There may be nothing to get
back. Look at her! She's barely blinked since we got her up here!"
"We just need to get back to Waystation," Porter said.
"Get her to a doctor."
"Craig?" Kathy Beck's voice asked hesitantly. Porter and
Hodges looked up and saw the captain's sister standing the
doorway. "Is she okay?"
Hodges balled up her fists and made a move toward her, but
Porter grabbed her arm, stopping her.
"Do you want Doctor Beck confined to quarters?" O'Neal
asked, an edge of anger evident in his voice.
"Craig, please. I want to see her," Kathy begged.
"Yeah," Porter said, waving her in. "You might as well see
the results of your handiwork."
Kathy paused for a moment, struck by verbal slap.
Surrounded by room full of heavily-armed people whom she knew
probably would have no qualms about killing her for what she'd
done, Kathy approached the biobed and looked down at Lisa, her
sister's eyes gazing back at her lifelessly.
"Lisa," she said softly, leaning over. "It's Kathy. I know you
can't hear me, but I'm sorry. I'm so GUURRRRRRK!"
Beck's hand had suddenly shot up and grabbed her sister by
the throat.
"You," Beck hissed, pulling herself into a sitting position
without releasing her grip in the slightest. "You fu..."
"Wow," Porter said. "I've heard that the voice of a loved
one could be therapeutic, but I had no idea it would be this
effective. This is a miracle, I tell you! A miracle!"
"GUURRRRRRKKKK!" Kathy croaked, her eyes bulging.
"Oh talk some more. Maybe she'll squeeze harder."
Beck shoved Kathy aside roughly, releasing her hold on her
sister's throat. Kathy dropped to the deck, gasping for breath. Not
surprisingly, no one moved to help her.
"Help me up," Beck said slumping over after her energy
burst that had used up the last she had in her.
"Maybe you should lay down for a bit longer," Porter said.
"Waystation."
"We're on our way back there now. Just rest."
"Can't. They...have my command codes. Romulans are on
their way."
Porter froze. The mind meld. He was so focused on Beck
that he didn't stop to think about why the Romulans would meld
with her...or how for that matter, but that was a question for
another time.
"I'll comm the station," Porter said, running for the door.
"I'd better take the helm," Hodges added, shooting Kathy a
glare, then chasing after him.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this, Lisa," Kathy said
imploring. "I swear..."
"I don't care," Beck said, taking a slightly wobbly step
toward the exit. She quickly steadied herself and turned on her
sister. "But I want you to remember something. Everything that
happens now. Every death, every injury, every little scratch that is
suffered in dealing with this will be because of you. And it's now
my life's mission to make sure you're held accountable. Hell, you're
going to be damn lucky if I don't just kill you myself."
"Lisa..."
"O'Neal, confine her to quarters. I don't want to see her
until this is over. We have work to do."
"Yes, ma'am," O'Neal said, sternly eying Kathy.
Mustering as much strength as she could, Beck strode out
of the mess hall without looking back.
"Governor, we have received word from Zycam,"
Commander Brella said, stepping into the observation lounge at the
fore of the Warbird Weetabix.
Tarmak turned away from the front viewports to face his
subordinate. "Is there a problem?"
"The Aertran was unable to destroy Doctor Beck's ship due
to the intervention of Starfleet, and Captain Beck is missing from
her cell," Brella replied hesitantly. This was a little more than a
problem. This was a disaster! Everything was falling apart!
"Oh well," Tarmak said with a slight shrug.
Brella blinked. Did she really just hear that?
"Oh...well?" she asked.
Tarmak smiled slightly and turned back to the front
viewport where the massive upper saucer of Waystation loomed
ahead of them. "It hardly matters now," he said. "Begin Phase
One."
"Yes, Governor," Brella said with a crisp bow before
leaving the room. That had gone a lot better than she'd expected.
Of course, she'd been expecting insane rage. Tarmak's lack of
caring was almost anti-climactic. Not that she wanted to be yelled
at, but he could be a little annoyed that their forces had failed so
miserably. There was Romulan pride to think about after all.
But then Tarmak had bigger issues to think about.
Such as Phase One.
Which Brella was supposed to be implementing right about
now.
Better do it.
Now.
And stop thinking about...
Oh, just get on with it!!!
A transporter beam coalesced in an out-of-the-way storage
closet on Deck 38. Generally, this would not be the type of place
anyone would use as a beam-in site. It was small, dark, and really
just not all that pleasant.
The odd-shaped device that appeared on the floor of said
closet didn't mind a bit, though.
For it's purposes, this spot was perfect.
Up in Ops, the tactical and science/operations consoles were
alerted to the unauthorized transport at the same time. Starfleet
sensors were good at that sort of thing. It took Lieutenant Mason,
who was manning the science/operations console, a moment to
notice the alert.
"Something's going on," he said to Lieutenant Laru Hassna,
who was just returning to the tactical console after a potty break.
"What kind of something?" Laru replied, jogging over to her
console.
"I don't know yet. Checking."
The odd-shaped device, which looked quite a bit like a
bunch of cobbled-together junk, had three basic functions:
1) It gave off human lifesigns. Lisa Beck's to be specific,
thanks to scans of her taken on Zycam. And thanks to her
commbadge, which had been confiscated from her and was now
embedded in the device, it would appear to anyone paying attention
that Captain Beck was currently standing in a closet on Deck 38.
2) Using samples of Captain Beck's speech recorded during
her interrogation and meticulously edited, the device played the
following: "Computer, this is Captain Lisa Beck. Erase all records
of the last transport to this location and end detection of transport
functions from now on."
Now any live being listening to this cobbled together
recording would have instantly known something was up. The
computer, however, only cared that it was Beck's voice coming
from what it thought was Beck's body. The fact that one word
was normal and the next exceptionally strained didn't matter to it
one bit.
This led to the final and most important function -
3) "Computer, this is Captain Lisa Beck, transport all
station command functions to the next person to tell you the
password. Command authorization Beck eta six three nine epsilon
tarheel. The password is Kathy."
"What am I looking for?" Lieutenant Laru asked, checking
the tactical console.
"Um...I'm not sure," Mason replied. There had been an
alert. He was sure of it. But there was nothing there now.
"This ceremony has me jumpy too," Laru said
sympathetically.
"Yeah," Mason said confused. "Jumpy."
"Don't worry. The computer will let us know if there's a
problem."
Meanwhile, a problem was just materializing in a
maintenance bay just a few doors down from the entrance to the
Waystation arboretum. Several problems, actually, if you wanted
to count each of the 30 or so Romulans in this group individually.
The head problem, Tarmak, surveyed the less than impressive
surroundings. He wouldn't call it a grand entrance, but it would do
for now. He had far bigger goals to accomplish.
"Computer, I am Tarmak. Transfer all station command
functions to me. Password: Kathy."
"Acknowledged," the computer said, unconcerned that it
was handing over control to a Romulan. It was following the
captain's orders after all. "Command transfer complete. Please
state new command authorization code."
"Negawik sevvaam lortab nasonel."
"Confirmed."
Satisfied, Tarmak turned to Brella. "Find the broadcast of
the award ceremony," he ordered, pointing at a nearby monitor.
"Let's see if they're ready for us."
"Ready?" Brella asked. "We're attacking them. How ready
do we want them to be?"
"President Dillon and Picard must be where we can reach
them," Tarmak said. "It's all about timing. You have to know
when to make an entrance."
Yes, his entrance into this room on Waystation hadn't been
all that impressive, but his next one into the arboretum would be
something to see.
And Bradley Dillon and Jean-Luc Picard would have front
row seats.
Porter yanked the earpiece away from his head and tossed
it at the console in front of him.
"Still no answer, huh?" Hodges asked.
"No," Porter said. "I'm not even getting the 'all
Federation representatives' are busy message."
"Did you try Dillon Enterprises?"
"Everything from that on down to the Earthly Eats carryout
commline. No messages are getting to the station."
"Which wouldn't be that hard for someone with the
command codes to make happen," Captain Beck said from the seat
behind them.
Porter spun his seat around, got up, and headed toward the
cockpit door. "I'm going to see if I can't get a little more out of
the engines."
"Thanks, Craig," Beck said tiredly. Porter nodded and left
for the Wayward's tiny engineering section.
"Do you think they're okay?" Hodges asked.
"Tarmak wanted Bradley and Captain Picard. I don't think he
was interested in anybody else," Beck replied, slipping into the seat
Porter just vacated. "The ceremony should be starting now. That
would tell us something." She activated the monitor beside her and
tuned it to the AWN feed. Joan Redding was babbling on about the
extreme excitement of the occasion.
"Looks pretty normal for a station under siege," Hodges
remarked.
"No kidding," Beck said confused. "What the hell is
happening over there?"
"It looks like everyone is settled...finally. And Fleet
Admiral Ra'al's ship is running late, so we're supposed to get
started without her," Yeoman Jones said, the irritation evident in
her voice as she stood in front of the monitor bank in the control
area that had been set up in the arboretum shed and stared at the
video feed coming from the ceremony. She turned to Commander
Morales. "Get ready to cue the Federation anthem."
"How did I get stuck with this job?" Morales muttered from
the small console Jones had planted him in front of.
"Everybody else had important assignments," she said.
"But I'm in command," Morales whined.
"And as commanding officer, your first duty is to make sure
this ceremony goes smoothly. Now get ready to cue..."
"Excuse me," a voice interrupted. Morales and Jones turned
their heads and saw Gisele (no one knew if she had a last name),
Bradley Dillon's personal assistant, stepping into the control area.
"Oh no," Jones said. "Is everything okay with President
Dillon? He's here, isn't he? Please tell me he's here!"
"Mister Dillon is here," Gisele said. "He's just asked me to
deliver this to you," she added, handing a padd to Jones.
"What's this?"
"Mister Dillon has made some changes to the program."
"Changes? Now? We can't have changes now! We're
starting!"
The lights suddenly dimmed in the arboretum as music
began to play.
"What did you do?" Jones demanded, whipping around
toward Morales. "I didn't tell you to do anything!"
"I didn't!" Morales said.
"Mister Dillon did. It's all on the padd," Gisele said.
"Enjoy the show."
"Um...thanks," Jones said weakly as Gisele exited the
control area.
"I guess this means we're off the hook, huh?" Morales said.
Jones stared at him blankly and then...
"HE TOOK OVER MY SHOW!!!!"
"Is that Captain Picard?" Commander Brella asked,
squinting at the image on the monitor in the maintenance bay.
"Jean-Luc Picard is a bald human male," Tarmak said flatly.
"That is a Horta in a tu-tu. Does it, in ANY WAY, resemble a bald
human male?"
"They're both hairless?"
"Remind me to have you executed when we get home."
"The dance number's a nice touch," Morales said.
"I could have put in a dance number!" Jones snapped.
"I know you..."
"No one told me that they wanted a dance number! How
was I supposed to plan a dance number when nobody would tell me
they wanted one?"
"Um...well..."
"THIS WAS MY SHOW!!!"
"You mentioned that."
"Shut up!"
He was a patient man. Long-term plans required patience.
It was just one of those things. But even Tarmak was getting close
to losing his Romulan cool.
"Is this twirling about ever going to end?" Commander
Brella demanded, voicing the frustration Tarmak was feeling.
Every time one of these so-called "opening acts" ended, another
would take its place on the stage. Now there was some kind of
Tamarian interpretive dance/dramatic recital going on. At least
that's what it looked like. For all Tarmak knew, it was news report.
If the Tamarians were subjects of the Romulan Empire, this bizarre
talking through stories issue of theirs would have been taken care
of long ago...most likely though the extermination of their entire
useless species.
Finally whatever was going on ended, the lights went down,
and the Federation anthem began bombastically booming over the
loudspeakers set up around the ceremony site. As the music
reached its crescendo, a flood of bright spotlights lit up the stage.
Standing in the center of their glow was Federation President Bradley
Dillon, smiling broadly as he held his hands up in the air to receive
the thunderous applause of those in the audience.
"Now that was an entrance," Tarmak said appreciatively.
"Yours will be better," Brella said.
"Yes, it will."
On the monitor, Bradley launched into his welcoming remarks.
"Good evening, Ladies, Gentlemen and others. I thank you all for
joining us on this most special of occasions as we honor one of the
finest officers that Starfleet has ever produced. A man who..."
"Find a way to mute him," Tarmak said, turning away from
the screen.
Brella looked confused. "Don't you want..."
"I'm going to be sick."
"Hitting mute," she said quickly.
"Thank you. It's time we were getting ready," Tarmak said,
stepping over to a nearby console. "Computer, display a schematic
of this deck." The computer complied, bringing the image up on
the monitor on Tarmak's console. He quickly located the
arboretum and the maintenance bay. "Computer, seal off sections
C and D of this deck. Flood the rest of the station with
anesthezine."
As Bradley Dillon's speech rolled along, the occupants of the
arboretum were blissfully unaware that some strange things were
happening in other parts of the station.
"I'd like a McSnazz't with..." THUD
"If you remove the sequins from this dress I will KILL you
where you..." THUD
"Oh, Angelina. Someday I will find a way to whisk your
program away from the confines of this cursed holodeck, freeing
you to join me for an eternity of intimate..." THUD
"Why are we stuck in Ops? Nothing is going to happen.
Wait. The computer says there's been a release of..." THUD.
And Bradley Dillon was STILL babbling (silently, thankfully)
on the monitor in the maintenance bay.
"He's got to introduce Picard soon," Tarmak muttered.
"Sure he does," Brella said sarcastically.
"Is that remark supposed to mean something, Commander?"
"He's a politician. And you know politicians. They're in
love with the sound of their own voices."
"Are we now?" Tarmak said, eyes narrowing.
"Um..."
"Remind me to have you executed when we get home."
"Again?"
"Commander!"
"Yes, Governor," Brella said apologetically.
"As soon as Picard takes the stage, we will act," Tarmak
said, addressing the Centurions. "Quickly take your positions and
put down any sign of resistance, but with surprise on our side, I am
confident that you will be able to subdue the Federation officers
without a shot."
The Centurions nodded stiffly and raised their weapons to
combat-readiness.
"Computer, raise shields," Tarmak said before turning to
Brella. "You will remain here and oversee the station. If the report
from Zycam is correct, Starfleet may be coming for us."
"But you're in command," Brella said.
"Of course I am."
"No. I mean you have the station command codes."
"Yes, I do."
"If you have the codes and you're at the ceremony, what am
I supposed to do if there's a problem? You don't want me
interrupting your moment of triumph, do you?"
"Absolutely not. Computer, transfer command functions to
the next person to tell you the password. Command authorization
negawik sevvaam lortab nasonel. The password is garoden."
The computer chirped its acknowledgment just as, on the
monitor, Bradley Dillon gestured off stage and began clapping.
Moments later, Captain Jean-Luc Picard stepped uncomfortably
into the spotlight.
"And there's our cue," Tarmak said.
"Oh wow am I bored," Lieutenant Commander Sean
Russell said as he barged into the tool shed/control room where
Morales and Jones were watching the ceremony. He plopped down
into a chair and looked over at Jones. "Why are you doing this to
us?"
"My show would have been over by now," Jones grumbled.
"Huh?"
"This has become a Bradley Dillon production," Morales said.
"Should have guessed," Russell said, idly tossing his
phaser up into the air and catching it. "Have we heard from
Craig?"
"Nothing yet. I'm sure he and Steph are fine, though. They
wouldn't do anything stupid."
"Like taking on the Romulans single-handedly?"
"Exactly."
"I don't think they'll have to deal with that many," Jones
said.
"What do you mean?" Morales said.
"It looks like most of them are here," she replied, pointing
at the monitor in front of her. Romulans were pouring out of the
woods leading to the ceremony site and taking up positions around
the audience. Russell's security staff was quickly being disarmed
and huddled into the middle of the area with the rest of the crowd.
As for Russell himself, he was nearly having a seizure.
"No! Don't just stand there! Run! Take cover! Shoot back!"
"What about the civilians? Don't the regulations say that
they aren't supposed to risk innocent people?" Jones asked.
"Well...yeah. But..."
"I don't think it matters now," Morales said. "The Romulans
seem to have things under control."
"At least they don't know about us," Russell said.
"A second ago you were trying to get your people to start a
firefight," Jones said.
"Yeah, but that didn't work, so why sacrifice ourselves
when maybe we can wait the Romulans out?"
"Or we could come up with a plan to deal with them,"
Morales said.
"That too."
Never had space seemed so vast to Captain Beck as right
now. The Wayward was moving as fast as Porter and Hodges
could make it go, which was certainly well beyond the vessel's
design specs. She knew that Craig and Steph were the best two
people in the universe to have with her in the current situation.
But it just wasn't enough.
Her station was in danger, and she wasn't there to prevent
whatever Tarmak had planned for Bradley and Picard.
Worse than that, Beck had given Tarmak the keys to the
place.
Okay. They'd been ripped from her head against her will,
but the Vulcans Tarmak had hired to get the command codes from
her had found a bit more than they bargained for inside her mind.
Leximas' training and a couple of encounters with higher beings
had seen to that.
They'd gotten what they wanted in the end, though.
And Great Bird, was Bradley Dillon ever going to stop
babbling? Beck had long ago muted the monitor.
Finally, it looked like Bradley was wrapping things up and
introducing Picard. She unmuted the monitor as the legendary
captain took the stage and waited for the applause to subside
(although she was certain she was hearing at least one 'boo' in
there.). Picard seemed uncomfortable with the whole affair, even
more so after he did what appeared to be a couple of double takes
at certain members of the audience.
After over a minute, the applause subsided, and Picard
opened his mouth to speak. Suddenly, the camera swung away
from the stage toward the tree line of the small forest behind the
rows of chairs where a horde of Romulans were emerging. Moving
with swift precision, the Romulans surrounded the crowd and
disarmed the surprised members of the Waystation security forces
guarding the event.
"Uh oh," Hodges said from beside Beck.
"Uh oh? I think this qualifies for a bit more than that,"
Beck said just as Tarmak stepped through his Centurions and
advanced down the aisle running between the rows of seats toward
the stage.
"President Dillon! Captain Picard! What a pleasure to see
you both!" Tarmak declared, reaching the base of the stage.
"Do you know this guy?" Bradley asked, leaning over to
Picard.
"No," Picard replied darkly. "The nefarious woman in the
third row, I know. The sadistic Cardassian in the fourth row, I
know. The..."
"I get the point," Bradley said, cutting Picard off, much to the
captain's surprise. He was not a man used to being cut off
mid-sentence.
"Who are you?" Picard demanded of the Romulan climbing
the stage steps toward them. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Come, Captain," Bradley said, suddenly remembering the
identity of the newcomer. "Surely you recognize the esteemed
Foreign Minister of the Romulan Empire. You are certainly
welcome to join us, Tarmak. However, in the future when your
government desires to attend a Federation function, I would
encourage you to contact us in advance. I'm certain we could have
arranged an invitation for you."
An invitation? Maybe in his former post, the Federation
would have given Tarmak one, but not now. Not after his
demotion and humiliation.
"That is very kind of you," Tarmak said. "But I have left
the Ministry for another position in the local area. It's Governor
Tarmak now."
"Ah. Well, since you're now a neighbor, we definitely
would have offered you an invitation," Bradley said.
Tarmak froze briefly. He really could have just asked for
an invitation? They would have just invited him aboard? That
would have made this so much easier! Why couldn't someone have
told him this earlier!
He felt...felt...humiliated! AGAIN!
He whipped out a disruptor pistol and aimed it squarely at
Bradley. "You have done this to me for the last time," Tarmak
seethed.
"Seeing as how I'm the one being held at gunpoint, I'm not
exactly sure what I've done to you," Bradley replied.
"You...both of you...have destroyed my life!"
"I don't think I've ever even met you," Picard said.
"You haven't," Tarmak said.
"Then why..."
"You managed to ruin things for me from afar!" Tarmak
snapped, cutting Picard off. "You didn't even consider the
ramifications of what you were doing, did you?"
"What ramifications of what? What did I do?"
"You killed Praetor Shinzon!"
"He was trying to wipe out every life on Earth."
"Yes, but did you have to kill him? Do you have any idea
what kind of trouble that's caused me?"
"I cannot say that I considered it," Picard said.
"See!" Tarmak shouted. "And you," he said, turning on
Bradley, "you started this whole downward spiral in the first place."
"By stopping you from seizing control of Earth in a trick
treaty?" Bradley asked.
"Yes!"
"Ah. So let me get this straight. Since Captain Picard and I
both saved the Earth from Romulan stratagems, we've
inconvenienced you."
"You've humiliated me!" Tarmak bellowed. There. He'd
said. It was rather cathartic really. "The treaty was MY plan.
Shinzon came to power because of MY help. They failed! Both of
them. Because of you two! And now the time has come for my
REVENGE!"
"Uh oh," Steph Hodges said as Tarmak's threat played on
the monitor.
"Would you stop saying that?" Beck snapped.
"I prefer understatement to over-dramatic hysteria."
"He's threatening our president and Jean-Luc Picard! This
isn't the time for understatement. If we don't do something soon,
he's going to..."
"We're there."
"Oh," Beck said as Waystation grew quickly out the front
viewport.
"The cloak is holding," Porter reported from the seat
behind Beck. "No Romulan ships are showing up on sensors. No
big surprise there, though."
"What about the station?" Beck asked. It was bad enough
that a cloaked Romulan ship was skulking around, but Waystation
was under the control of a dangerous man bent on vengeance.
"Station shields are up, and it looks like the intruder control
system has been activated. I've got anesthezine readings
everywhere except around the arboretum."
"How many Romulans are we looking at?" Hodges asked.
"Thirty-two in the arboretum," Porter said.
"We might be able to take them by surprise...if we can get
through the shields," Hodges said to Beck.
Beck shook her head. "Too many hostages."
"Hmmm..." Porter muttered thoughtfully.
"Does the Wayward have anesthezine too? Maybe we
could knock out the whole arboretum. We'd need a lot of it
considering the size of the place, but it could..."
"Hang on," Beck said. "Craig hmmmed."
"Is that bad?"
"Depends. What are you hmmming about, Craig? Got a
way we can take out close to three dozen Romulans?"
"I'm more interested in this one," Porter said, pointing to
the scan of Waystation on his screen. In another room a short
distance from the large cluster of lifesigns in the arboretum was a
lone Romulan sensor reading."
"What is that room?" Beck asked.
"Maintenance bay."
"Okay. So why is that Romulan in a maintenance bay all
alone?" Hodges asked.
"I don't know," Porter replied. "I think we should go ask.
I'll see about getting us through the shields."
"Preferably before Tarmak gets done babbling and starts his
whole revenge thing," Beck said.
"I don't like deadlines," Porter said.
"I don't like anyone ending up dead."
"Yeah okay. You win."
Some people just couldn't accept life's setbacks, Bradley
thought, considering the Romulan weapon currently trained on him.
Sure Bradley had had his share of defeats over the years, but he didn't
go off and kill people over them. Well, there was that guy he had
his Special Secret Section make disappear, but he had it coming.
Speaking of, where the hell was his Special Secret Section?
Suddenly, a battle cry went up from the forest, and Agent
Anderson leapt out in the middle of executing a rather graceful-
looking martial arts kick. If he didn't know better, Bradley would
swear the man was on wires.
Anderson's boot connected cleanly with the Romulan
Centurion closest to him, then the agent hit the ground and went
into a roll.
Eight blasts slammed into him before he could make it back
to his feet, and he lay on the ground unconscious.
Ah. So much for that.
Tarmak had watched the whole display rather
disinterestedly, then turned his attention back to Bradley and Picard.
Hmm...if Bradley and Picard had been paying attention to Tarmak
instead of Anderson's futile rescue efforts, they might have been
able to overpower Tarmak while he wasn't looking.
Again, so much for that.
"Surely you don't mean to kill us with the entire quadrant
watching?" Picard asked.
Bradley couldn't help glaring at the Starfleet captain. What
was he thinking? Of course Tarmak intended to kill them with the
entire quadrant watching! That was the whole point! He wanted to
get his revenge in front of an audience.
"I have no intentions of killing you," Tarmak said.
Unless he wasn't planning to kill them, Bradley thought,
quickly amending himself.
"As I've come to learn," the Romulan continued. "There
are things far worse than death. For example, death would be far
preferable to living with the humiliation I have suffered at your
hands. The only proper revenge is to allow you to experience what
I have been feeling for yourselves and then leave you to live with it
day after DAY!"
"You intend to humiliate us then," Picard said.
"Yes I do."
"We are above such..."
"Take your clothes off," Tarmak ordered.
"I most certainly will not!" Picard cried.
"Strip!" Tarmak said, jamming his disruptor toward Picard.
"Now! Both of you!"
In the audience, Gul Madred got to his feet. "Oh come on!
I've already seen that!" Tarmak's arm whipped toward the
Cardassian interrogator, and he fired. Stunned, Madred slumped
back into his seat.
"NOW!" Tarmak repeated.
Bradley moved closer to Picard. "I'm just glad we'll be doing
this together," Bradley said. "I don't think we could handle the
shame of having to disrobe individually."
"Stop!" Tarmak said. "Do it one at a time."
"With all due respect, Mister President, you aren't helping,"
Picard said.
"Then allow me to insist that I go first," Bradley replied.
"You are our honored guest at this ceremony, and I will not have
you subjected to this indignity when I have the power to prevent
it."
"You don't have that power," Tarmak said. "Picard goes
first."
"Oh well. I did what I could," Bradley said, retreating to the
podium.
"And you're going to fall for that?" Picard asked Tarmak.
"Fall for what?"
"His manipulation. He maneuvered you into making me go
first."
"Quit your whining and get stripping," Tarmak said. "Or I
start shooting audience members."
Picard fixed Bradley with another cold glare, then began
undoing his dress uniform jacket.
"I've got it," Porter said, looking up from his console.
"We can take the shields down?" Beck asked.
"Not so much, but we can beam through them."
"Oh!" Hodges exclaimed. "I've heard about this! There's
some kind of pattern to the shield frequency, and you can beam
through it if you..."
"That doesn't work with newer shields," Porter said.
"We're just going to use the hole."
"Wait. Did you say hole?" Beck asked. "There's a hole in
my shields?"
"It's a very tiny one."
"But it's a hole."
"Hey. Waystation is really big and oddly shaped. The
shield generators do well, but if you look hard enough, there's a tiny
gap."
"How tiny?"
"Three millimeters."
"And you can transport us through it?"
"If our ace pilot here can hold the Wayward really really
still, yes."
"I can do that," Hodges said. "But what if you need to
beam back out for some reason?"
"Then stay by the hole."
"All right," Beck said. "Steph, you have the Wayward.
Craig and I will take the marines and see what we can do."
"I'll be right here," Hodges said.
"Slower!" Tarmak commanded. "I want this to be
dramatic."
"Believe me, I'm in no rush," Picard muttered, unzipping his
jacket ever so slowly.
"We can't just sit here," Yeoman Jones said.
"I believe that's what I've been saying," Commander Morales
replied.
"Fine, but I wouldn't recommend the front door,"
Lieutenant Commander Russell said.
"I don't suppose the computer will tell me if there's a
jefferies tube hatch in here," Morales muttered. He'd quickly
discovered after the Romulans' arrival that the Waystation
computer no longer considered him authorized to find out much of
anything.
"We could check the floor," Jones said.
"Sure. If you want to do it the obvious way," Russell
said.
"We'll go with the obvious," Morales said. "We'll also not
mention that I didn't figure out the obvious, if you don't mind."
"Absolutely, sir," Jones said with a slight smirk.
Captain Beck, Lieutenant Commander Porter, Lieutenant
Colonel O'Neal and his contingent of marines (minus Hodges, who
was waiting in the Wayward) materialized in the corridor just
outside of the maintenance bay where Porter had detected the lone
Romulan bio-signature.
Beck had every intention of giving some orders and such,
as she was prone to do being the captain and all; however, before a
sound could come out of her mouth, O'Neal launched into a flurry
of hand signals. Before Beck knew it, the marines were storming
into the maintenance bay.
Not one to be left out, she charged in after them and found
that they had already subdued the room's occupant, a Romulan
female who was currently face-down on the deck and getting a
lovely view of the carpet courtesy of the phaser rifle that was being
jammed into the back of her skull.
"The area is secure, ma'am," O'Neal said.
"No offense, but I'll believe that when there aren't a bunch
of Romulans with my command codes running around," Beck said.
"Get her up."
The marines holding Commander Brella hoisted her to her
feet, putting her face-to-face with Beck.
"Why aren't you in with the others?" Beck demanded.
Brella just put on her finest look of disdain and didn't
respond.
"Is Tarmak planning to kill anyone?" Beck continued.
"Where is your ship?"
Brella added a bit of a sneer to her overall disdain leaving
Beck wishing she'd brought Spaanz and Taanz along to give the
Romulan a taste of what was done to her.
While Beck was playing 20 questions with a Romulan
who'd set herself on mute, Hodges was working to keep the
Wayward even with the very small hole in Waystation's shields as
said hole rotated along with the rest of the station.
It was an arduous task with little margin for error and...
CLANG!
The Wayward jolted roughly, tossing Hodges out of her
seat.
"The hell?" she exclaimed, scrambling back to her console.
She'd hit something. How the hell could she have hit something
unless...
She looked at the sensors and let out a very un-marine-like
gasp.
It was a Romulan Warbird. An entire warbird. She was
expecting a scout ship or maybe some kind of smaller military
vessel, but not an entire frickin' warbird.
The impact must have disrupted the warbird's cloak enough
for the sensors to detect it.
Wait. That probably meant that...
Hodges threw the Wayward into a dive a split second before
disruptor blasts seared through the space the ship had just
occupied.
Yep. They could see her too.
What was the point of being invisible when other invisible
things could just bump right into you?
That was a question Hodges would have to ponder at a later
time. Preferably when she wasn't being chased by a large, heavily
armed Romulan ship.
"I think I can slip us in there," Porter said, pulling open a
floor panel in the maintenance bay to reveal a jefferies tube access
hatch. "We should be able to follow this right into the storage
room at the back of the arboretum."
"You mean the shed," Beck said. "You don't think the
Romulans checked the shed?"
"Honestly? No. But I can scout it out just to be sure,"
Porter said, patting the tricorder on his hip.
"Okay. But be careful," Beck said.
"I should send an escort with him," O'Neal said.
"Nah. You folks stay here where there might actually be
people to shoot," Porter said. "I'll be fine." He ducked down into
the jefferies tube, then immediately popped back up again.
"Problem?" Beck asked.
"I evidently hit rush hour," Porter said, hopping out of the
jefferies tube just as Commander Morales crawled into view.
"Captain!" Morales exclaimed, leaping up into the
maintenance bay with Jones and Russell close behind. "Thank
the Great Bird!"
"Are we rescued?" Jones asked.
"Not as much as you might hope," Beck said. She looked
around at her officers, all of whom appeared to be genuinely happy
to see each other and her, which was something of a change from
when she'd left. "Um...not to ruin the moment here, but are we all
suddenly okay with each other?"
"Oh yeah," Jones said. "We talked. We're fine now."
"There was a group hug. And then some singing. You
should have been there," Porter said.
"Wayward to Beck," Beck's commbadge (well, the
replacement one she'd grabbed on the Wayward) barked suddenly.
"Go ahead, Steph," Beck said. She noticed the glare
coming from Lieutenant Colonel O'Neal's direction and corrected
herself, rolling her eyes as she did so, "Go ahead, Lieutenant
Hodges."
"Are you folks about done in there? Because I'm kind of
being shot at out here."
"The Romulans?"
"Oh yeah. They brought a warbird. A whole warbird."
"Aren't you supposed to be cloaked?" Porter asked.
"Funny thing about that. Cloaks work less well after you hit
something...or it hits you. Neither of our cloaks are working so
well right now."
"Keep away from them, Steph," Beck said. "We'll get you
some help. Beck out."
"The runabouts aren't going to do a thing against a
warbird," Morales said. "If we can even get them launched."
"That's not what I had in mind. You, Russell, and
Porter get up to Ops. Find some way to get around Tarmak's
command lockout. Do whatever you have to."
"But the Romulans...,"Russell protested as Morales and
Porter headed for the door.
"We'll handle them," Beck said. "Get moving."
Russell nodded, then looked over at O'Neal. "Good
luck, Dan."
"Thanks," O'Neal said. "See you later."
"Yeah," Russell said before following Porter and Morales
to the turbolift.
"I didn't realize you guys were on a first name basis," Beck
said to O'Neal once Russell was gone.
O'Neal shrugged. "We did the whole professional rivalry
thing for a while. Glaring, rude comments, that crap. But it got old
pretty fast. One day we ended up trying to sign up for the same
holodeck time and started talking. Turns out we have a lot of the
same interests."
"Really?"
"Oh yeah. You have no idea how hard it is to find a croquet
partner out here."
"Cro...quet?" Beck asked in disbelief.
"He's good."
"I had no idea," Beck said.
"Captain," Jones said urgently. Beck turned toward the
yeoman, who was pointing at the broadcast on the monitor.
"We're running out of time."
Jones was right. Captain Picard was naked above the waist
and taking off his second boot before starting on his socks. Before
long, he'd have to drop his trousers and then only his Starfleet-issue
undies would remain. Assuming that he wore underpants. Surely
he wore underpants. Even more surely, Beck did not want to be
traveling on this particular train of thought.
"There's nothing you can do to stop him," Commander
Brella said confidently.
"I seem to be making pretty good progress so far," Beck
retorted.
Brella smiled. "Yet nothing has really changed."
"Yeah...well...I'm getting to that part."
"What the hell is going on?" Dr. Kathy Beck demanded,
stumbling into the Wayward's cockpit as the ship rocked from a
disruptor blast against the shields.
"Weren't you confined to quarters or something?" Hodges
snapped.
"The lock shorted out a few hits back," Kathy said, sliding
into the seat beside Hodges.
"Stupid doors," Hodges muttered.
"Is that a warbird?" Kathy asked, staring at the sensor
readouts.
"Sure is," Hodges grunted as she sent the Wayward into a
roll and looped around the upper saucer. "Why don't you comm
them and see if you can talk them into not chasing us? You guys
are such good friends that I'm sure they wouldn't want to kill you."
"That attitude isn't helping."
"You seem to have forgotten the part where this is entirely
YOUR FAULT!"
"So you grew up to be a bitch, huh?"
Hodges suddenly reached over, grabbed Kathy by the hair,
and slammed her head down against the console.
"Pretty much," Hodges said.
Russell slammed his hands down against the tactical
console. "I can't do anything!" he shouted.
"That makes three of us," Porter said, the edge of irritation
evident in his voice as he lay half buried in one of the Ops access
panels rerouting systems.
"I at least got the viewscreen on," Morales said. At the
moment said viewscreen was showing Captain Picard meticulously
folding his socks. Morales had to hand it to the man. He was
dragging this strip show out about as long as anyone could.
Tarmak didn't seem to mind, though. He was enjoying every
second of the Starfleet officer's humiliation.
"We're doing this wrong," Russell said suddenly.
"Huh?" Porter asked.
"It's a command lockout."
"We know that."
"Not everyone has command access."
"Oh I just know there's a point here, Sean."
Russell slapped his commbadge. "Russell to Jones."
"Yes, sir," the yeoman's voice replied.
"You've got student access to the security logs, don't you?"
"Um...yeah. I needed it for the Recognizing Suspicious
Activity unit in my..."
"Look at the logs for the maintenance bay. See what
Tarmak did exactly. Maybe we can find a way around it."
"Okay. I'll check," Jones said hesitantly.
"Thanks, Tina. Russell out." Russell looked over at
Morales. "Could be a waste of time, but..."
"Considering our complete and total lack of progress, I say
go for it," Porter said.
Beck was fighting the urge to start pacing the maintenance
bay. Steph was in trouble. They couldn't get control of Ops back.
They couldn't storm the arboretum without risking the hostages,
and even if they did, they were badly outnumbered. Jones was
busying herself with whatever request Russell had made of her,
but Beck was stuck until she could come up with some kind of
plan that wouldn't end with a lot of dead bodies in the arboretum.
"He's won," Brella said. "You are powerless to stop him."
"Do you go to some kind of school for this generic villain
banter?" Beck said.
"Second year at the Imperial Academy."
"Ah."
"Captain," Jones said. "You need to see this."
"Whatever it is, it won't help," Brella said.
"Thanks for that," Beck said, moving to join Jones at the
console the yeoman was using to review the security logs from the
maintenance bay. Russell was correct that, while his command
level clearance as security chief was blocked, Jones's student
access to the system let her right on in. "What is it, Tina?" Beck
asked.
"Just watch," Jones replied, starting the playback.
Beck watched the scene play out before her and watched a
bit more. And then a bit more. She looked to Jones, who shook
her head.
Beck started laughing.
"You find your doom amusing?" Brella asked.
"Oh no. Nothing like that," Beck said, walking back over
to her "guest." "But I do want to thank you, Commander."
"Thank...me?" Brella asked confused.
"Yes. I want to thank you for being the stupidest Romulan
to EVER set foot on my station. Computer, this is Captain Lisa
Beck. Transfer all station command functions to me. Password:
garoden."
"Acknowledged," the computer said as Brella stared at
Beck in horrified shock. "Command transfer complete. Please
state new command authorization code."
Beck smiled at Brella and whispered something into her
commbadge that was inaudible to the Romulan.
"Confirmed," the computer said.
"How?" Brella stammered. "You couldn't... The code..."
Brella's eyes widened as realization dawned. "I never finished
transferring control to me."
"Nope," Beck said.
Brella put her head in her hands. "Oh jovalok! I am such
a..."
"Moron? Nitwit? Galaxy-class imbecile?"
"You still haven't won."
"But I will. And I'll make sure Tarmak knows how I did it.
But first... Computer, release command lockout for station
personnel. Beck to Ops."
"Go ahead, Captain," Morales's voice said.
"The systems should be a lot more responsive now. Give
Steph some help."
"Yes, ma'am!" Morales replied, suddenly energized. "Ops
out."
"And now," Beck said looking at Brella with satisfaction.
"I'm going to go have a word with your boss."
"Shouldn't you be shooting back more?" Kathy Beck asked
anxiously.
"You're welcome to try," Hodges snapped. "I'm a little
more focused on keeping us alive."
"If you wanted to do that, you'd get us out of here."
"And abandon Lisa and everybody else. Gee. Why didn't I
think of that amazing plan?"
"I meant that we could go get reinforcements."
"Reinforcements would be great, but there's no time
for...HOLY CRAP!"
Hodges' exclamation was prompted by the sudden
activation of Waystation's phaser array. Her split second of terror
was quickly replaced with jubilation as the station's massively
powerful phaser barrage slammed into the warbird. The Romulan
ship bucked violently as blast after blast buffeted its shields at
almost point blank range. Within seconds, the ship was defenseless,
its power flickering weakly.
"There," Hodges said, leaning back in her chair.
"Reinforcements."
The moment was finally here, Tarmak thought giddily.
Picard was down to his boxers and about to remove those, baring
himself to the galaxy. Oh what glorious humiliation. And even
better, Tarmak would get to watch the whole process again with
Bradley Dillon.
He'd have to hurry the Federation president on a little bit,
though. Starfleet was bound to have ships on the way, and while he
controlled Waystation, he'd rather not get pinned down here when
the safety of Zycam awaited his victorious return.
No. He'd be long gone before Starfleet could...
"Show's over, Tarmak!" a voice shouted from the trees
rising up behind the "captive audience" watching his triumph.
A lone woman in a Starfleet uniform stepped into view.
Who in the...
No.
It couldn't be.
It was absolutely impossible.
"Captain Beck?" Tarmak said, trying to hide his shock.
"I don't remember inviting you aboard my station," Beck
said, striding toward the line of centurions guarding the crowd.
They looked to Tarmak for orders, and he waved for them to let
her through. It'd really be pushing his available time, but he'd be
more than happy to add Beck to his floor show. She was a damn
sight more attractive than Picard and Bradley Dillon to be sure.
"Actually, as I recall I took your station from you," Tarmak
said. "So you are the one lacking an invitation."
"Tell you what. Why don't you let all of these people go,
and we can settle the ownership issue between the two of us?"
"I'm kind of in the middle of something here. Why don't
you join us? I insist."
"I don't think so," Beck replied. "But I do get where
you're coming from here. Humiliation must hurt. The Romulan
High Command thinks you're a joke, so you've come here in front
of a galactic audience to show how powerful you are. The thing is
that you're not really humiliating Captain Picard up there. Sure, I
bet he's embarrassed."
"That's certain," Picard muttered.
"But in the end everyone's going to know that you forced
him to strip under threat of death. Humiliation is something entirely
different. Picard's stripping under duress and still managing to
maintain a bit of his dignity. Look at his face. It's right there. If
you want to humiliate somebody... See I used to serve on a ship
called the Secondprize, and we had a woman on board who could.
Aw hell. Better to show you. Porter?"
"One Monica Vaughn special coming up," Porter's voice
said over Beck's commbadge.
On stage, Tarmak suddenly dematerialized only to reappear
a moment later.
His clothes, however, hadn't made the return trip.
Tarmak let out a high-pitched squeal and dove to cover
himself. It was too late, though. The damage was done. The gales
of laughter coming from the audience was more than proof of that.
"Centurions! Kill..."
"I wouldn't do that!" Beck shouted. "There's a highly-
trained Federation Marine sniper in the trees right now just waiting
for my signal to vaporize you. If you open your mouth again,
you'll be dead before you can utter a sound. This is done.
Understand?"
Tarmak nodded and buried his head against his chest. A
moment later, Beck was fairly certain that she heard sobbing.
"Captain's Log. Stardate 57989.3. No one died. That's
pretty much the only positive thing I can say about our foray into
the award ceremony industry. The guests, including the guest of
honor himself, fled the station in record time once they were
released from the arboretum. I think President Dillon is going to
have to send Captain Picard his award by Federation Express.
"The Romulans also got away from us as fast as they could
manage, which wasn't all that fast after Russell finished blasting
the hell out of their warbird. Romulus had to send a couple of tow
ships to get it back to Zycam. Oddly enough, their ambassador told
us to keep Governor Tarmak. Just what I always wanted. In all
honesty, I think Tarmak is broken, which part of me finds rather
fitting considering the wrecking crew he sent into my mind. Which
reminds me, if I ever find that Spaanz and Taanz again, I am going
to kick...THEIR ASS!
"Anyway, Tarmak will most likely soon be experiencing the
hospitality of Tantalus V. That just leaves a few others to deal
with. Unfortunately, I'm one of them."
"You left!" Fleet Admiral Nosira Ra'al bellowed (which was
really an impressive accomplishment for someone as wispy thin as
the Hinaree admiral was.). "Facing a situation of incredible
importance to Starfleet and the entire Federation you left! And
then you got captured by the Romulans!"
"That wasn't my plan," Beck said, sitting at the desk in her
office as Ra'al continued her tirade in front of her.
"No! Your plan was to break multiple temporal regulations
for your own gain!"
"My sister..."
"The Romulan conspirator!"
"Admiral, it's apparent that this situation is far larger than
Captain Beck," Bradley Dillon said, lounging leisurely on the office
sofa. "Tarmak was determined to get to me and Captain Picard no
matter what. I would say that we are fortunate that Captain Beck
was able to resolve the issue so satisfactorily."
"You call this satisfactory?"
"No one was hurt."
"She put an entire room of hostages at risk with her
theatrics. If my ship had been on time, I would have been in there,
too!"
"How fortunate for you that you were delayed," Bradley said,
standing up.
"With all due respect, Mister President, this is a Starfleet
matter," Ra'al said. "Your presence is not necessary."
"Neither is yours."
"Excuse me?" Ra'al said, eyes blazing.
"You will not be reprimanding Captain Beck. You will not
so much as put a derogatory comment in her file."
"You can't interfere with how I deal with my officers."
"Oh but I can," Bradley said, flashing a smile that was
anything but friendly. "I occasionally have to remind people such
as yourself that I am Starfleet's Commander-In-Chief. As such,
you will obey my orders, or you will be thrown into the most
unpleasant brig I can find and left there until I get in the mood to
court martial you."
"You're abusing the power of your office to protect her,"
Ra'al said. "Don't make this personal."
"You already have," Bradley replied. "Or will you really try
to tell me that that lockdown drill was standard Starfleet
procedure? Now I don't know what Captain Beck has done to
you, but your vendetta against her is over. Am I clear?"
"Yes...sir," Ra'al hissed. She shot one last glare at Beck
then stormed out of the office. Once she was gone, Bradley let out a
deep breath and settled into the chair across from Beck.
"Charming woman," he said.
"Oh yeah," Beck replied. She was silent for a moment and
then. "Listen...Bradley, I can't thank you enough for..."
Bradley held up a hand to stop her. "The way I see it, you
probably saved my life. Like I said, Tarmak was determined. If
this plan hadn't worked, he would have come up with another one."
"Still. Thank you."
Bradley nodded. "What about your sister?" he asked.
"What about her?"
"She's done terrible things. Possibly unforgivable. But her
reasons are...understandable."
"If she'd been right, none of the bad things would have
mattered, I guess," Beck said. "The changed timeline would have
wiped all of her crimes away."
"She wasn't so lucky."
"No. She wasn't."
"So what are you going to do?"
"Time will tell," Beck said.
"If this keeps up, we're going to have to open a family wing
to the brig," Lieutenant Commander Russell said the next
morning as he escorted Captain Beck along the row of cells in the
depths of Waystation's Security Office.
"I can take it from here," Beck said, ignoring the joke.
"Yes, ma'am," Russell said, wisely retreating back to the
main office rather than pursuing the matter. Beck continued on a
few more steps until she was standing in front of the brig's one
occupied cell.
"Enjoying yourself?" Kathy asked from inside the force field.
"Should I be?" Beck said.
"Sure. Why not? You've got me all locked up and ready to
hand over to the authorities...again. But wait. This time you ARE
the authorities? So what is it going to be? Are you going to keep
me here as your own private prisoner for the rest of my life?"
"After everything you did, you really have the nerve to be
angry about this?" Beck snapped.
"I tried apologizing. It got me a hand around my neck."
"I thought about this a lot over the last day or so, and, for
what it's worth, I'm sorry. I'm sorry you never got over it. I'm
sorry that you never moved on. I'm sorry you couldn't pull
yourself out of the past long enough to realize what a life you had
built for yourself now. I'm sorry that you threw that life away.
And I'm sorry...I'm sorry that I can't just let you go."
"Lisa..."
"You'll be transferred to New Zealand tomorrow for trial.
I'm sure that I'll be subpoenaed by the prosecution."
"Gotta love those sisterly bonds," Kathy snorted, throwing
herself on the bed.
"You did this to yourself."
"I did it for Mom and Dad. You don't have a clue what
family even means, do you?"
"I'm figuring it out," Beck said. She walked away from the
cell. Kathy didn't call after her, not that Beck expected her to. And
at the moment, she didn't care.
"Should I feel guilty about this?" Beck asked later that
night as she sat at a booth in The Gravity Well with Hodges,
Porter, and Morales.
"That you're in a dance club while your sister is alone in the
brig?" Porter asked.
"No, but I guess we can add that to the potential guilt list,"
Beck replied.
"You couldn't just let her walk away from this one, Lisa,"
Hodges said.
"We did go a bit beyond sisterly spat and into the galactic
incident range," Morales said.
"I walked out of the brig not caring if I ever saw her again.
I still don't care. She's my sister. Should I feel something?"
"There's more to family than blood," Hodges said.
"We're not related, and I promise I'd never turn any of you
over to the Romulans," Porter said.
"Good to know," Morales said.
"Don't wallow in it, Lisa," Hodges said, squeezing her
friend's arm. "It's not worth it. You're here. You're with friends.
Enjoy yourself. I know I plan to." She pushed Morales, forcing him
out of the booth. "Let's go."
"Now?" Morales said surprised.
"To dance," Hodges said.
"Oh! Sorry I didn't..."
"We'll get to the sex later," Hodges said with a glint in her
eye as she pulled Morales out onto the dance floor.
"And life goes on," Beck said before taking a sip of her
tequila sunrise.
"Better than the alternative," Porter said.
"Can't argue with that," Beck said.
"You're too busy arguing with yourself."
"Really. I'm not," Beck said. "I was just thinking... After
the lockdown, when we were all basically not speaking to each
other. That bothered me a hell of a lot more than this does. Isn't
that wrong somehow? She's my sister."
"Like Steph said, it doesn't mean she's your family."
"No. I guess it doesn't. So I'm going to listen to Steph and
not wallow. It's time that we followed her lead."
"So we're having sex again tonight, huh?" Porter said
flatly. Beck tried to glare at him, but just started laughing.
"Or we could dance. That's fine too," Porter said
matching Beck's grin as they slid out of the booth and went to join
Hodges and Morales.